


Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

by iceskanks



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Hair Brushing, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, floofy floof floof, minor hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 16:42:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9333773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceskanks/pseuds/iceskanks
Summary: “Mm, you have so much hair. I’m a little jealous.”Yuuri frowned at the confession, turning his face slightly to the side to peer up at Viktor. “Huh?”Viktor didn’t meet his eyes, instead his gaze focused on the messy mop of dark hair he was playing with. He tugged lightly at an unruly tuft before smoothing it down again with his palm. “I mean, it’s so thick and soft and fluffy. Not like mine at all.” the Russian murmured, voice unusually quiet, barely above a whisper.





	

Januarys in St Petersburg were bitterly cold, and this one was no exception. The jog to and from the rink did very little to warm Yuuri up, even after hours of training, he felt chilled to the bone. They always got home mid-afternoon, an hour or two before sunset, cheeks tinted red and feet bruised and aching. The one place in the city that seemed capable of retaining heat was Viktor’s apartment. Yuuri was able to push himself through practise, thinking about how toasty he’d be after arriving home. He’d been living here months now and hadn’t really noticed how, very recently,  _ home _ meant a modern flat with minimalist furnishings, a slobbery poodle and a very sappy Russian man. 

Similar to most afternoons after training, Yuuri had dozed off on the couch. He never really meant to. He’d start off by reluctantly peeling off his outerwear - hanging up his coat and hat, tucking his shoes up to the wall so Viktor wouldn’t trip over them again. His snow-covered trainers sat besides Viktor’s own, slightly larger pair. He smiled at the sight, not even sure why it made warmth bloom in his chest.

Viktor was always the first to collapse onto the couch, having been far less meticulous in discarding his extra layers. He always took the right side of the sofa, like he always took the right side of the bed. By the time Yuuri sat down, the TV would be on, usually it would show the news or some cheesy daytime soap opera. He placed himself on Viktor’s left, arms and thighs close enough to brush, legs curled up beneath him, stretched out slightly to the side but leaving enough room for Makkachin to plonk down on the edge of the couch if she wished to.

Yuuri was not yet fluent in Russian but he’d pick up certain words and phrases from the TV. It was oddly comforting, hearing what was mostly nonsensical rambling that gradually became white noise until his brain shut it out completely, drifting off to sleep. His fatigue was forgotten but, even unconscious, Yuuri felt snug.

Today, Yuuri was out for a solid hour, a little longer than his usual thirty minute power naps. He groaned quietly as he awoke, feeling his face squished uncomfortably against what he assumed was Viktor’s shoulder. Groggily Yuuri managed to sit up a little and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“Good evening, sleeping beauty.” Viktor had looked up from his phone to grin at Yuuri. A hand reached out, a thumb brushing the corner of the younger skater’s mouth and then down his chin.

Yuuri froze at the touch, realising that Viktor was wiping away his drool. His cheeks flamed red and he forced himself to look at his fiancé’s shoulder - there was a very noticeable patch of saliva soaked into the material of his grey t-shirt.  _ Disgusting. You slobbered all over him like an animal. He probably hates you now. _ Yuuri made a small sound of distress, almost like a pained whine and pulled away Viktor’s hand. “I, uh, I’m really sorry! I should wash your shirt, I -”

He was silenced with a gentle peck to his lips and a soft little smile. Viktor’s hand cupped the side of his face, his thumb rubbing gently across Yuuri’s cheek. He knew what it meant;  _ it’s okay, don’t panic, I love you. _ Yuuri felt himself relax in response to the gesture, taking a deep sigh and willing away the uncomfortable tightness in his chest.

“Did you know you snore sometimes,  _ kobuta-chan _ ?” Viktor chuckled, his tone light and teasing as he wrapped an arm around his fiance’s shoulders.

Yuuri buried his face in his hands, leaning forward, hoping that the couch would just swallow him whole.

Viktor was still laughing, he leant forward too, pulling Yuuri closer as he nuzzled the side of his face. “It’s cute! I promise!” he cooed and tugged on Yuuri’s shoulder, pulling him back to lean against the back of the sofa with him. “Now, I need more cuddles,  _ moy Yura _ ~”

He huffed in reply but couldn’t help but comply, craving more affection also. Yuuri rested his head on Viktor’s shoulder again, this time at a different angle to avoid the wet patch he’d created. Glancing ahead, he noted the TV was still on and decided to try and focus on it, if only in an attempt to try and increase his familiarity with the Russian language. The man speaking made the words sound so blunt and harsh, it was entirely different to how Viktor spoke. Viktor’s words were most light and playful, tongue and lips curling prettily around strange foreign sounds, usually accompanied by a teasing lilt that made Yuuri melt a little. Concentrating on the television was a lot harder than he thought it would be, especially when he felt Viktor’s fingers reach up to card carefully through his hair. Did he  _ want _ Yuuri to fall asleep again? 

“Mm, you have so much hair. I’m a little jealous.”

Yuuri frowned at the confession, turning his face slightly to the side to peer up at Viktor. “Huh?”

Viktor didn’t meet his eyes, instead his gaze focused on the messy mop of dark hair he was playing with. He tugged lightly at an unruly tuft before smoothing it down again with his palm. “I mean, it’s so thick and soft and fluffy. Not like mine at all.” the Russian murmured, voice unusually quiet, barely above a whisper.

Yuuri’s frown had deepened. Was Viktor feeling self-conscious about his hair again? He sighed and refrained from rolling his eyes, lest he trigger a mini-meltdown from his melodramatic boyfriend.

He grasped Viktor’s wrist, pushing it away from his hair and uncurling his arm from where it had curled around his neck. “Come here,  _ baka _ .” Yuuri snickered lightly, tugging at the collar of Viktor’s shirt. The other man readjusted his position so that he had his head in Yuuri’s lap, his legs hanging off the arm of the sofa. One of his slippers fell to the floor and Makkachin quickly snatched it up and took it away to use as a chew toy. Thankfully for the poodle, her owners failed to notice.

Looking very sorry for himself, Viktor stared up at Yuuri, blue eyes bright and watery. Yuuri was shaking his head fondly as he brushed through the wispy, silver locks of hair with his fingers. Amazingly, even after a day at the rink, it was tangle free. Seeming pleased with the extra attention, Viktor’s eyes fluttered closed and he heaved a great big sigh. “Yuuri, isn’t my hairline receding? I’ve been measuring. My forehead is one point two millimetres larger than it was three weeks ago. Do you know what that means?”

Yuuri laughed quietly in reply, and pressed a finger gently to the tip of his lover’s nose. “That you’re an idiot?”

His eyes flew open again. “So cruel! How could you do this to me, sweet Yura?” he whined indignantly.

“Why on Earth have you felt the need to measure the size of your forehead?”

“Because I might lose all my hair, just like my father! I don’t want to be bald, Yura!” Viktor cried dramatically, lifting one hand to rest it over his face. 

“Maybe we should buy you a toupee…”

Viktor sat up abruptly, his upset clear in his expression. “You think I’ll really need one, oh my God.”

Yuuri started giggling, almost hysterically. “Viktor, please, why are you so bothered by this?”

“I’ve told you! I don’t want to lose my hair.” Viktor sulked, pressing his face to Yuuri’s neck, still not able to laugh at himself for blowing his worries completely out of proportion.

Yuuri’s hand returned to his thin hair. “You’re being silly. Would being without your hair really be that bad, hm?” 

“Yes. I’d lose all my sex appeal.” Viktor mumbled, “You wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He almost asked his coach to repeat himself, shocked by his honest words. “Viktor, I’ll always want you, I’ll always love you, hair or no hair.” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You would?” he asked, barely audible.

“Of course.”

Viktor sat back to look at Yuuri, smiling a little now. Yuuri reached out to cup the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

_ It’s okay, don’t panic, I love you. _

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, kudos/comments are v much appreciated! feel free to hmu on tumblr (iceskanks), i'm always open to new requests/ideas.
> 
> and ty to my lovely beta, cy<3


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